eventheirvoice: (Ignoring)
[personal profile] eventheirvoice
[ What's that you may see there? Why, a bored-looking mutant! The communicator is perched on a nightstand and aimed at just the right angle to catch Mystique sitting on her bed in her full lizardy glory. She's not happy, if you must know.

Sure, she's no stranger to waking up in strange places, but after poking around on the network and getting the basic gist of things (i.e., she's screwed), she resigned herself to her fate and went to pick a room. But instead of quiet brooding, her device decided it was time for some amateur video action. How nice!

(She'll hate herself later. She likes to think she's the paragon of knowing technology. It's not supposed to get the best of her.)

So there she sits, observing her hand blandly. For a brief moment, nothing happens. Then a ripple spreads across her skin and it's a human hand. Then it's blue again. Next her arm is human. Blue again. Eventually, she's fully her human doppelganger. It's faint, but there's a small sigh of relief.

What's prison life if you can't do what you're best at?

Mystique lazily switches back to blue normalcy and gazes out of her window. Trapped, hmm? And in a mansion, of all places. She doesn't like trapped, seeing as she's yet to meet a trap she can't get out of. But! Sometimes there's nothing to do but accept the existence of people craftier than her. ]


Hmph. Touché.
vates: (:) yup.)
[personal profile] vates
[ Kevin's grim-faced when he looks into the camera, the neck of a cello extending up past his neck. He'd like to be happier about what he's about to do, but it's pretty bittersweet, especially coming on the heels of everything that's gone on lately, but... Well. Thanksgiving just happened, and he always heavily associates birthday cake with turkey and stuffing and pumpkin pie. His birthday comes close enough on the heels of that holiday that his family would celebrate it all in one go, so it's weird, spending the day without hearing anything about it.

He knows time isn't really passing here, but he feels a year older, and it's not like he'll ever have a birthday again back home. Why shouldn't he take the opportunity to celebrate it now, here, with his new family? He doesn't really want to make it all about him, though, which is why he's here with his cello. ]


Hey. So... It's my birthday. I'd be 19 today if I actually aged any, but since I'm dead back home... I'm just going to go ahead and call this one an official birthday.

[ He picks up the bow for his cello and starts to move into position, holding it against the strings. ]

I know there are others of you out there who can only look forward to more age-less birthdays, so this post is about wishing you guys either a belated happy birthday, or a happy birthday in advance, if it hasn't happened yet. Or maybe we're birthday twins?

[ He starts to play, but then stops. ]

And it's for you guys who are still alive back home, too. Not to discriminate against anyone.

[ And then he moves into playing, and singing, the happy birthday song. He hasn't been practicing every day like he used to, but he gave himself a few warm up rounds before starting the broadcast. ]

Happy birthday to you; happy birthday to you; happy birthday, dear everyone; happy birthday to you.

[ Next comes the sound of a lighter, and then Kevin holds up a cupcake with a lit candle on it. Leaning over, he blows it out, and then gives the camera a small smile before he cuts the feed. ]

1

Dec. 1st, 2014 03:49 pm
catprince: (12)
[personal profile] catprince
[Raj has his illusions up, so no hint of feline features or incongruously red hair here! Just a perfectly normal kid, newly arrived and trying to figure out the network. He smiles, perhaps showing a few too many teeth.]

Hi. I’m Raj. Arrived a day or so ago. I figured I’d explore this place a bit before I started asking stupid questions and stuff. This place doesn’t look very new, so I’ll bet I’m not the first person to arrive all unexpected and I’m sure those of you who’ve been here a while are sick of the same questions over and over. So I won’t ask those. Instead, I have two, very very important ones.

First question. [He holds up one finger] Are we allowed to raid the kitchen like, whenever?
Next question. [A second finger joins the first] Does anyone here have an XBox? Or a Playstation or whatever. It’s very important. To my health y’know. [He nods, trying to look serious.]

Oh, and if anyone runs across a dude who says he’s my uncle, let me know. I’m kinda sorta expecting him to show up at any moment.
coldhardy: (pensive)
[personal profile] coldhardy
[Elsa's room, decorated mostly in several shades of pale blue satin, is visible behind her. What isn't visible to the eye of the communication device is that she's completely frozen over the door to the room, unfreezing it only to come and go.

It hasn't seemed like a good idea to be in the library in days. She leaves when she has to, including a recent trip to the roof to try to get a better idea of what's been going on, but she's been spending the majority of her waking hours close to this particular home.

Her expression is serious and thoughtful.]


I'm fine right now, but if I weren't, I don't -- [she hesitates, frowning] -- I wouldn't have an anchor, not anymore. I can't be the only one like this. Is anyone else?

I have a younger sister, but she's not here, and until now I've been grateful for that. I think I still am, but....

I guess that leads me to wonder: if there's someone you care about, is it selfish to wish they were here?

Or is it just normal? What if it was someone who you couldn't see any other way?

[She lets out a small, frustrated sigh -- the topic is still on her mind, but she has one more thing she wants to say before she ends the message.]

Anyway, if you think there's something I can do to help you, please let me know. I'll do what I can.

[ACTION OPTIONs: When things do calm down, it will be possible to find Elsa in the library again. Maybe she's sorting through a pile of books on a table, or maybe she's standing on a ladder, reeeeeeaching for something on a high shelf. She's always interested in recommendations.

She also takes her little dog, Trigg, for walks in the garden and on the grounds. Or maybe he's taking her.]
thinblueline: ([±] feelin' bookish)
[personal profile] thinblueline
[ It's late when the video feed kicks on. In the background, the library stretches out behind him, but Blake's seated at a large table with a multitude of crayons and construction paper instead of the usual stacks of books. On the tabletop, a small gray tabby kitten bats around crayons and generally invades Blake's space as he adjusts the camera. ]

Hey, uh... Wonderland. [ He offers a wave as he sits back from the camera propped on the table. ]

Been thinkin' a lot lately. 'Bout this place, 'bout these murders, 'bout the people we meet an' the people we lose, and I—

[ Blake shakes his head. He feels almost instantly like he's made some kind of mistake. Not being a particularly outwardly emotional person, not really one to admit there are chinks in his armor, let alone display them, he can't be sure why he's decided to share with the network this time around.

He reaches to go turn off the feed when his hand is intercepted by that affectionate and persistent kitten, purring and butting against his fingers. Instead of ending the transmission, he scoops up the cat and holds it close to his chest.
]

It's been rough. For a lotta people, not just me. The, uh... the Elrics are gone: Edward and Alphonse. And Jesse Pinkman, too. A— [ He sighs a little. ] —a lotta people, really. 'Specially lately. And it sucks, really sucks losin' family like that.

[ When he looks down at the kitten, he realizes he doesn't have much else to say, that he's probably said enough (or too much). John smiles thinly, scratches at the kitten's ears, and then focuses back on the camera. ]

Anyway, pretty sure I'm not alone in feelin' that way, so... It's late, but if anyone wants to come down to the library, I hear colorin's good therapy and I don't mind sharin' my crayons.

[ He might even draw you a picture. ]
ceruleans: (Mystique - scared)
[personal profile] ceruleans
[The video feed is understandably distorted by the fact that the camera is sitting on its side on the floor. There's a familiar blue pair of feet walking over shards of broken porcelain, uncaring of the cuts that she's probably incurring on herself.

More jarring than that, though, is the sound of freshly-breaking plates as they smash against the wall of her room. It's something that she picked up while she was waitressing - it's one of the few things that actually helps to calm her down. It doesn't seem to be working this time around, though.

She's shouting in a flurry of languages -- Vietnamese, English, French, German -- but the sentiment is easy to pick up. She's not just angry, she's mournful and desperate.

This place has taken the one familiar person she'd finally begun to mend fences with away from her. After a week of false memories, maybe she's taking it harder than she should be.

Or maybe she's just been in a more fragile state than she can admit since she got here. She hadn't had much time to process what had happened with Trask and Nixon, after all, before getting dropped off in this place.

Eventually she slides down onto the floor, her knees meeting the broken plates. It's at this point that she realizes the camera's on.

Of course. She can't even have this private moment. Well, since the thing is on ... ]


Erik Lehnsherr isn't here any longer, if anyone else cares.
noitatnacni: (crying my tears)
[personal profile] noitatnacni
Remember, remember, the fifth of November. [She's heard that somewhere before. Not that she can name the source when she mumbles it then, but it runs through her head a lot. She has every reason to remember, although hers aren't the same as most. Other people are remembering down at the beach, and normally a party like Bonfire Night might be something Zatanna went to and relished. It sounds like fun, which isn't exactly something that happens a ton in Wonderland. But even if yesterday just hadn't happened, it's still November 5th. She'd know it even if she hadn't just checked her phone's date and time for the hundredth time that hour. The difference this time is that the phone decides to start recording when she sets it down at her side. It isn't easy to tell, but she's up on the roof, sitting at the edge and looking out into the distance.]

I don't know what I'm doing. Bet you never thought I'd say that, huh?

[These aren't words she means to share; the entire day she's spent as alone as she can manage, sparing a friendly smile for anyone she runs into, but not a genuine one. It hasn't been a year exactly, yet she can't argue with the date, or what her heart feels when she remembers what happened the last time she went through this day at home. So she talks to the person who isn't there, who she hadn't opened up to nearly so much as she should have when he had been. He'd always been so overprotective, right up to the point where he took her place as a prisoner.]

I mean, I'm trying. I've practiced a lot; it's not like there's anything else to do here anyway. But my magic still isn't strong enough. [Not to save a single soul, much less somehow escape Wonderland with her memories in tact. When she goes home, she has to be strong enough to stop Fate, to have the right spell and get past the magic that keeps his helmet in place. Zatanna leans forward, arms tightly wrapped at her waist.] I haven't been able to save anyone.

[So how on earth does she save him?

It seemed so much easier back home, as part of a Team. Yet they aren't in Wonderland either; no one from her world is, and the loneliness from that weighs more heavily on her now than it has since her arrival. They'd believed in her, even when she doubted her own ability. Zatanna draws an arm forward so she can look down at her hand, and for a moment she can almost hear Robin's encouragement. But he isn't there either, no more than Artemis or M'gann or anyone.

No more than Zatara. He hadn't always been a hero either, although she isn't old enough to remember when he wasn't. He never wanted her to live this life, even as he taught her magic and watched her grow. And in turn, she never understood why, just accounted it to him being her dad and smootheringly overprotective. She'd wished he'd lay off so she could join the Team, just before Zatara and every other adult vanished that day. Her breath catches, because even though they weren't they weren't her last words nor were they even spoken to him, she remembers, and regrets them so much.]


I'm sorry, Dad. [For every failure and faltering. For her own powerlessness at Wonderland and back home. She swallows hard, the tears she'd long expected starting to fall as she trembles for a reason far different than November's chill.]

video;

Oct. 21st, 2014 05:02 pm
itwouldbeatragedy: (It's the one thing you can't replace)
[personal profile] itwouldbeatragedy
[Kaneki is in the dining room. He looks less nervous than he has the last few times he's appeared on the network, like he's finally found the right medicine for what's been bothering him.]

I don't know how many people make their own food here. I'm not that great in the kitchen, unless it's coffee.

[He smiles a smile that's part self-deprecating, part dark amusement. Then his entire posture goes pensive, though his expression is serious enough to communicate that he's more than just curious.]

Even if you do cook your own food, the ingredients you use show up magically. Of course, everything pre-made does, too.

I know we don't really have a choice, but does anyone else worry about where it all comes from? I mean, the meat--where does that come from? Is it even real meat?

[He thinks it must be, but...really. In the best case, there's some magical butcher in the depths of the Mansion, killing and slicing up magical animals. And Kaneki can think of lots worse than that.]
ceruleans: (Mystique - what?!)
[personal profile] ceruleans
[It's been almost exactly a month since she's arrived in this place that they call Wonderland. The only thing she's managed to do, really, is to convince herself that she is not in the land of mutant genocides. That, along with Erik's presence here, was more than enough to convince her that another video post was necessary. The other mutants who'd belonged to the Brotherhood were dead, and she knew there were mutants here like Ned. Maybe they were hiding and maybe they weren't, but she felt it was only fair to reach out to them.

When she flicks on the video feed, she's at some sort of ornately carved desk with her hands folded awkwardly in front of her. She is her usual tried-and-true blue, wearing a red tank top. She'd actually had time to dress herself for the occasion instead of having to be nude for reasons of sudden disguise.]


...I think it's been long enough with me here that this announcement is overdue, but I didn't exactly want to paint a neon target on myself while things were happening with what people call "Mirrors", here.

My name is Raven Darkholme, but I'd like it if you called me Mystique. Like some of the other people here, I have powers that had me labelled a 'freak' when I was at home, even as a child who knew no better.

I've been hunted, injured, and nearly killed by people who think that I'm dangerous for some of the things I could do, not the things I've done. I've been hunted because I refuse to hide myself in plain view because other people think that I should, because the way I look makes them uncomfortable.

Because the fact I can do this,

[She lets the scales ripple across her body, briefly displaying to the audience watching he usual blonde persona before flowing back to her natural state,]

makes me different. I know we should all be working together here in Wonderland, but I wanted to give any other mutants out there who might be looking for a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen a chance to be heard.

I'll be that person, Wonderland, if you need me.

-- uh, I guess that's all.

[Dang, and she was doing so well with being eloquent up until the end of that sentence. She flicks the phone off, ending her broadcast.]
stillplaying: ([sad] damn it)
[personal profile] stillplaying
He's gone.

[The words leave her mouth as soon as she turns on the camera. The wind blows a few strands of hair into her face and she pushes the strands away. Though her eyes are downcast, unable to meet any gaze that may be looking back at her through the network, her face is clear on the screen. Sad, pained, haunted. She's been trying to find him the past few days, gone by all the places she knows that he prefers. But he hasn't been anywhere. Not in his room, not at the beach. Hasn't responded to any of the messages she tried sending him through the phone.

It's not like. And it only leaves her with one conclusion.

She wants to be a coward and just type up a message. Tell Haymitch and let him inform everyone else. That'd be easy. Less painful. It'd certain involve less interaction with strangers. But Finnick Odair deserves better than that from her.]


Finnick Odair's gone back to Panem. I don't know how many people he knew here or if he had any friends. [But it's Finnick. Of course Finnick had to know someone outside of her or Haymitch. Of all of them, he's the most social and the most amiable.] I just thought you should know. He'd want you to know.


[She disconnects the device and turns back to the flowers and the pieces of rope she had brought with her to the beach. She had never gotten a chance to say goodbye to him. Not when he had died in the sewers and not now, leaving Wonderland to return... to Panem? To live out all the remaining months until his death? She had gotten that chance with Rue. It had been short, it had been risky, but it had been something. And even if the game was different, Finnick had still died playing one.

He deserves something. Someway to be honored and not forgotten.

She sings while she works, taking the flowers and carefully working them into the knots she ties on the rope. Her voice grows a little stronger the more she sings, though she doesn't attempt to compete with the roar of the surf. But it's that same voice that kept her sane the day she decided to stop trying to kill herself and maybe consider living instead. A little raw, a little unused to singing, but beautiful nonetheless. The kind of voice that would make the birds stop to listen.

Ultimately, she plans on making something of a wreath with the ropes to throw in the ocean. A wreath filled with the knots Finnick had shown her, filled with colors and filled with life. Though her fingers aren't nearly as nimble as his had been, she doesn't let it stop her. There's no rush here. No hovercraft coming to take a body away or other Tributes out to kill her. She takes her time working. And sings.]
unground: (03.)
[personal profile] unground
[ the girl who is shown through the video cannot possibly seem more disapproving if she tried. wearing a simple black frock and no shoes, she is a skinny looking thing with long, sleek black hair and dark eyes.

oh, she's green too. but that would be addressed in a moment. when she speaks, she sounds more long-suffering than annoyed and her voice is rich with sarcasm. ]


Wonderland, land of wonders - true or otherwise false.

[ this is obviously her way to say hello. ]

I do ever wish to thank those of you who have been kind and perceptive enough to alert me to the fact that I am indeed green. Certainly I would not have noticed it myself in a mansion full of mirrors.

[ aka you all suck and she is already so done. ]

A second matter. As odd as it may be for you to believe, there seems to be two women who share the same skin color in this Mansion. Odd, I say, since you are all the same color and yet you do not see me threaten you with swords and sharp words for it.

[ thanks for that, hook! ]

so for the sake of this introduction. There are two green women, the other, I trust, can introduce herself if she hadn't already. I do believe she answers to the name of Zelena. I, however, answer to the name of Elphaba if you are indeed interesting enough to be answered to begin with.

[ that is it, that's the message. ]

03 | video

Oct. 7th, 2014 12:03 am
alionsheart: (this isn't what I want)
[personal profile] alionsheart
[ The words that he dragged across his tongue just yesterday still sting, the goodbye throbbing where once her name rested safely, where the taste of her was like wine and burnt sunshine and home. Sitting in front of Regina, right there next to the fireplace where they'd had their picnic not long ago, he'd wanted nothing more than to simply reach out and take her hands in his, capture her lips in a kiss that could convey the truth he's trying so desperately to bury for the sake of honor.

He's doing the right thing, but he's hurting the woman he loves, so it hardly feels like the right thing at all. It feels very much like drowning slowly.

For a moment, he hopes that telling her his feelings for her are real, and that he loved Marian might be enough to convey where his heart truly lies; but to what end? It's selfish to give Regina any sort of hope at all, because he has to stay true to his vows. When he walks away from her, he's leaving his heart behind, right there in that room where they'd once been so happy, and only with his back to her does he allow the tears to fall.

When he wakes that the morning, he's in a room far away from Storybrooke, from Roland and Marian.

Wonderland.

Marian isn't here.

For a moment, a selfish thought takes hold of him again, and he contemplates rushing to Regina's room and kissing her as deeply as he'd truly wanted to kiss her in her office as he forced himself to let her go.

No.

He's a good man now. An honorable man.

Which means, of course, that he has to let her go again.

More than anything, he needs people; friends, and...anyone, to distract himself from the crushing weight bearing down on his heart. But he needs to talk to Regina first, and he has no idea how long he's been gone. ]


Private for Regina )

[ There are so many people he wants to see right now, and he'll connect with them, or they'll get to him first. But after speaking with Regina, he decides to broadcast to the network at large. ]

I was wondering who else out there had been sent home and then returned to Wonderland? I'm separated from my son again, and I miss him terribly, but I have this fleeting sense of relief at the moment. It's sure to pass by tomorrow, and it must make me sound a bit mad.

Perhaps you've felt the same before, though, that being here is an escape from the troubles we've left behind?

[ He's just...never been relieved to be here before. And even though Regina is here, and everything is still terribly wrong, he has the benefit of being able to truly think about everything that's happened. ]
unsullies: (and we're slipping off the course)
[personal profile] unsullies
Though he does not grow, he does eat. [ Setting: the kitchen. Featuring: Dany and Aeryn, the still-tiny dragon who caws hungrily from behind. ] There is more than enough food for us both, though I wish he could prepare his own meals. I tire of charring his meat for him.

[ She strokes his head affectionately, though. Aeryn makes another rough sound and waits impatiently. ]

I am a stranger to these... technologies. I have been content to use the candles in my room, though I have been told that there is an easier way...

[ And that's the clicking sound of a young dragon queen turning on the stove. Note: there are no dishes, pots, or pans on the stove at the moment. Only open flame. ]

It appears without any effort... would that we had such marvels in Essos. We--

[ Aeryn shrieks, flapping his small wings as the fire flares up. So much for that idea. The meat on top chars rapidly with the strength of the flame. Then, smoke begins to clog the room and spill out of the kitchen. All in the name of dinner! ]
ceruleans: (Mystique - shocked!)
[personal profile] ceruleans
[When the feed first clicks on, it's obvious that the device is laying haphazardly on its side (presumably propped up by a ... towel, or something) facing the second-story pool. The object in the frame looks a lot more like some sort of sea creature floundering in the water with the flashes of blue scales and occasional streaks of red motion, but when something finally emerges from beneath the water -- well, it's the form of a blonde girl in army fatigues, soaking wet and gasping.

The extremely sharp might notice the last hints of gold draining out around the very edges of her pupil, but only those who have better eyes than most -- she's gotten better at her shapeshifting in the last decade, after all.

The girl sputters and curses under her breath in what sounds like ... Vietnamese ... before she fixes her eyes on the camera pointed at the water. Her first instinct is to chuck the thing right at the person who'd placed it there to record her, but she doesn't see anyone in the near vicinity as she scans around. That was perplexing.

She clears her throat, trying to gather her thoughts. The last thing she'd remembered was going to fish Wolverine out of the Potomac River (always cleaning up Erik's messes - some things would never change), plunging a hand into the ice-cold water. In contrast, she notes, the water around her is fairly warm.

Having an outwardly hostile tone right now isn't going to help things, she knows, but she feels that if she sounds a little annoyed it should be all right.]


You know, I've heard of river monsters before ... but not teleporting river monsters.
stillplaying: ([confusion] you're joking)
[personal profile] stillplaying
[She's always excelled at keeping to herself, not letting anyone in. It's been how many months since she arrived here? And still, she can count the number of people she actually trusts on one hand. Finnick and Haymitch. Anyone else? Anyone else, she's still excels at keeping at arms length. It's better that way, she tells herself. Better for them, better for her. She's not someone worth befriending.

Because, in the end, she still can't break the feeling that all she does is get those she cares for hurt. For once in her life, she's doing her best not to be selfish. She doesn't need friends to survive this place. With Haymitch's stores, her ability with a bow, and Finnick's with a trident, they'll have all the food needed. They'll be able to protect each other when the game played here finally comes to a head. She has her allies. She doesn't need any other.

But it is a lonely life. And coming down from the high of actually being able to hunt large game the past few days, the loneliness only seems more amplified.

It's why she actually sits on the front steps of the mansion, staring at the phone device in her hands. Her quiver rests on the step behind her and her bow rests against her right side. A measly squirrel sits in front of her. Today's hunt had been one of the worst since arriving here. She hasn't been this empty handed in a while. And whether she admits it or not, the lack of success is starting to eat at her.

She flips the phone over in her hands before finally turning it on. There's a second of hesitation before she finally asks:]


They can turn on you. Or disappear at any moment. So what's the point? Seeking out allies here? Why bother?
stillplaying: ([anger] another game piece)
[personal profile] stillplaying
[In the end, she's at least grateful that her memories haven't been affected this time. She knows who she is. Katniss Everdeen. Eighteen Years old. From District 12. The former girl on fire, the former Mockingjay. A Tribute and a Victor who shouldn't be alive today but somehow was. Someone who probably deserved this, deserved to be trapped in someone else's game. A pawn for new Gamemakers to be used for their amusement.

She hates remembering. But it's more comforting than thinking she's someone she's not. A girl with lots of family. Someone who was a little bit of a loner but never alone.

This time, it's her vision that's strange. Not being able to see color, seeing the world in black and white and shades of grey is disconcerting to say the least. Uncomfortable and very unwelcome. But that's not what really grates on her nerves again. What has her scowling at the camera doesn't have anything to do with those changes and everything to do with the pack of small, yipping puppies that won't leave her alone.

She's tried hiding in her room. They appear in her closet. Tried escaping on to the grounds and into the forest. But it doesn't work. She's not Prim. She's not good with animals. Doesn't really care for them as anything but meat.

he stands by the outskirts of the forest, looking utterly displeased at the latest puppy to attempt to wriggle its way into one of her squirrel traps as she reset it. More circle around her boots. The camera pans around them before she he holds up one pup in particular by the scruff of its neck. It yips at the phone and wiggles in her grasp but Katniss ignores it.]


Do these belong to someone, too? Or are they fair game?

[Because these aren't hunting dogs. Clearly. Aside from providing meat or fur, she can't think of any other use for them. For all she can't stand Buttercup, at least he knew how to make himself useful at times. These things? So far, not in the slightest.]
dragesjef: (pic#7943015)
[personal profile] dragesjef
[Hello, Wonderland. Have one technologically impaired Viking on your screen. Or rather, part of him. A close-up of one of his bright green eyes as he inspects the device in his hands.]

This is-- Whoa, hold on! [Suddenly the camera zooms away from his face as he realizes he can see himself on the screen.] --Is that me? I mean, it's me, but how--

I've never seen anything like this. What is it? It's amazing! --I think. Er. [The device tilts and turns, he obviously has no clue that anyone else can see this.] Is it some sort of really advanced mirror, or...?

[Tap. Tap. Tap tap tap. He'll just go on tapping the screen curiously to see what happens. He might have to take this thing apart out of curiosity later to see how it works. Maybe he can tinker with it a little...]

Hm. Is there anyone else here? Anyone who can tell me what this is? Or...where I am, exactly? [None of this is directed to the small box in his hand though, rather to the garden around him.] Toothless? Where are you, bud? I was just with you... Astrid? Anyone?

[On his feet now, all you get is flashes of leather as his hand holding the device goes to his side and he stands himself up to get a good look around.]

[ooc: feel free to respond via network or action!]
mamasgirl: (pic#7748405)
[personal profile] mamasgirl
[The video feed cuts on amidst the sounds of random buttons being pressed. After a few seconds, a young girl's dirt-and-bruised-covered face appears on the screen. She's much too close to the camera and it's obvious she has no idea that anyone else can see this.

She pokes at the device once more, causing another series of various noises as buttons are pushed. The sounds bring a delighted smile to her face and she giggles before finally speaking in a way that a toddler typically would, despite her clearly being nearly school age.]


Moooosic. [She pauses then calls out with delight one of the few words she can say with perfect annunciation.]

Victoria!

[At the mention of her sister, the girl's curious gaze and joyful, carefree smile gives way to a sorrowful expression as memories of where she was, what was happening, rush back over her. Victoria said no. Victoria wouldn't go with her. Wouldn't go with Mama.

With a grunt of anger, she throws the device away from her, causing it to land at a slightly skewed angle on the ground. The child can still be seen, though, prowling about on all fours - feet flat on the ground and back arched in a very unnatural manner - as she continues to explore the area of woods where she's found herself.

A sniff of a pine cone, an absent bite of a bit of plant that she chews with smacking lips and zero regard for if it's actually edible or not, and she finally drops back on her haunches while turning her attention to the trees.]


Where Mama? [The words are as much of a whine as they are an order. A heartbeat passes and now she sounds as though she's striking some sort of deal.] Lilly stay. Mama come. [With her mind made up and her gaze still on the trees above, she suddenly reaches out and snatches a bug out of the air. Her attention flickers to the bug and she smiles ever so slightly, watching it crawl across her fingers... before abruptly shoving it into her mouth.

It makes an audible crunch as she begins chewing, doing her best to be patient while waiting for mama to arrive.]

[video]

Apr. 29th, 2014 02:36 pm
stillplaying: ([sad] self-loathing)
[personal profile] stillplaying
[She sits in the dark of the bedroom she claimed, hidden within the closet and staring at the device for minutes - even if it's felt so much longer. Her back sits straight against the wall, knees curled to her chest. Maybe she's regressing. All the work and progress Dr. Aurelian had made - however little of it - slowly drifting away. She's in a game again. Trapped and at the will of others.

All she wants to do is stay out of sight. Fall asleep and wake up back home in Panem, back where she belongs. Or, at least, in a place she belongs more so than here. What she'd give for this to be not real. For Haymitch to be the one with the addled memory for once.

But he's not and she left the door open to her bedrom without thinking. People could wander in if they wanted. She's defenseless, having gone straight into hiding as opposed to finding a place to obtain weapons. That'll come later.

Maybe.

What's important now is that she’s in a game. A game, apparently, that she's been in before. Where people might know her, might have some memory of a girl she can't remember. Her talk with Haymitch had made that much clear. Maybe she should seek out allies. But what person in their right mind would want to know her? Why would anyone willingly trust someone who... someone who couldn't even protect those she loved most.

Finally, she clears her throat. Her grey eyes look at the screen, haunted. The left corner of her lip twitches but there’s no actual smile on her face. Smiles haven’t come easy in a long, long time.]


My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’ve been told that I’ve been here before but I don’t remember. I don’t... [She doesn’t want to remember. Doesn’t ever want to have to play that game that Peeta does every single day. Real or not real. How can she tell? Is this real or is it something else entirely? She still doesn’t know.] I don’t want to be here.

[But who does? With the exception of the Careers, did any of the tributes ever really want to enter the arena? She knows the answer to that, knows it as well as she knows her own name. She’s messing this up.

But that comes as no surprise to her. She doubts it comes to a surprise to anyone.]


I just want to hunt and- Be left alone. You don’t need to get to know me. You don't want to. Trust me on that. [Because all she's ever done was hurt those that she loved. Or even liked just remotely. It's too dangerous for anyone to be around her. No longer is she solely just unlikable, but she's become too much of a nuisance for any Gamekeeper in their right mind not to want to control.] I'm not worth it. It'd be best for everyone if you see me to just stay away. Just forget that I ever came back.

( video )

Mar. 1st, 2014 04:54 pm
monopolies: It's Percy Jackson, Shawn. (Percy Dunn the lightning thief!)
[personal profile] monopolies
UNNEEDED EXPOSITION ABOUT HIS UPDATE BLAH BLAH )

[ Finally everything is set up just the way he wants it. Camera placed just behind the closed doors of the entrance wall, it's propped up to frame the hall in such a way that it looks like just any normal day in Wonderland. The real trick is turning it on at just the right moment. He decides to turn it on from behind so the video doesn't capture his initial appearance. Slipping away as quietly as possible, the video just captures a few silent seconds of the doors.

Which then BURST OPEN IN AN EXPLOSION OF SHRAPNEL AND FIRE. USA USA USA.

The smoke clears and, surprise surprise, guess who's standing at the center with arms cross and cocky grin in place? No Crowley, that's for fucking sure, like he'd be capable of anything this epic. For those who knew him the changes are small and subtle, probably nothing to catch amidst the chaos. A taller stature, unhindered by painful wounds, a face that's still young but no longer burdened by self-consciousness and undercurrents of fear.

In the split-second he opens his mouth, just before he speaks you might be expecting something like YOUR HERO HAS RETURNED. But no.
]

WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY RAPTORS?

[ Good news: he's even more of a selfish shithead than before. Bad news: that was the good news.

God help you all.

and now a million years later do I add an obligatory nsfw warning?? don't read my threads if you value your time and integrity
]
likesimpossible: (= Believe every word that you say)
[personal profile] likesimpossible
[ The Doctor's never been one for sleep, and the only times he really does stop for a rest is when he's injured or drugged or otherwise incapacitated. But the point is, he doesn't require copious amounts of it, and it's for that reason that he's a little disconcerted just now.

For all the traveling he's done and all the things he's seen, he's never been witness to a moment quite like this one: a moment that the video feed is happening to capture.

The Doctor's standing on a decent-sized chunk of Wonderland that looks like it might have been part of a corridor at one point. It's hard to tell, though, since it's well and truly broken off from the rest of the place, but there's definitely a bit of carpet clinging to the thing.

And judging from the way he's glancing back and forth, he looks as if he's contemplating trying to hop off his piece of Wonderland and land on the next closest piece. Which isn't exactly that close, hence the need for contemplation.

But he's got bigger fish to fry besides his own plans, and so he turns his glance back to the device to check in with the other denizens of Wonderland. ]


Everyone alright? Got a piece to hold on to?

[ He hopes so, as hurtling through the air to who-knows-what hardly seems pleasant. ]

I'd say this is a little curious, wouldn't you? I don't know about the rest of you, but entire buildings don't just break apart on a whim.

[ It's something he'd like to investigate, if he can just move past the part about being trapped on a floating piece of hallway. But for the moment, he's alright with just settling in and waving to anyone who happens to float by. If they get close enough, he'll try for a jump, if they're agreeable. ]
formercheerio: (31)
[personal profile] formercheerio
video.
    How often do these things happen?

    [ For anyone that heard her voice the other day she's notably a lot calmer now, and not crying. She's kind of sorry to everyone that encountered that, but mostly embarrassed ]

    Someone told me that things happened here but I wasn't expecting that. Or anything so soon. [ To be honest it was hard to expect much of anything. The place she was in was crazy, and everyone seemed to believe it was Wonderland ]

    Am I supposed to get used to be a suit of armor?

    [ Hopefully no. Someone had said it was from their world but she didn't know what else could happen ]

action.
    a.
      [ The first place Quinn could be found is in a hallway. Any hallway floor four and below. She's checking out the mansion, slowly and floor by floor as she makes her way down from her room to the foyer, and after that the kitchen. She's been poking her head into rooms as she goes down, seeing what's out there. If she has to be stuck there she may as well know what's around. She definitely has the look of a lost newbie, though. Tour guide, anyone? ]
    b.
      [ The next place that you may find Quinn is in the kitchen. It was the place that she'd gone when she'd arrived, the first place that she'd seen and surprisingly easy to get back to. She'd been there again during the... event. She hadn't been able to eat but it had been an opportunity to look around a little. A little being the term - the suit hadn't been so easy to move in. Right now Quinn had a glass of milk, and was debating making herself a sandwich ]
    c.
      [ Her final trip, and stop, sees Quinn going outside. She walks around for a little bit before finding somewhere to sit. This whole place was overwhelming. Being brought here, what she'd seen over the past few days... she don't know how to put it into words. Quinn didn't know what she needed, other than to have some help getting her head around the whole thing, but sitting and just looking out was nice. And peaceful. And weird ]
symbolised: (Default)
[personal profile] symbolised
I. Daytime
[It's strange, for Katniss, being in this place. She figures it's probably strange for everyone else too-- how could it not be? this place is seriously messed up-- but there's so much freedom compared to District 12, comparatively. She doesn't have to sneak out if she wants the silence of the woods. All she has to do is... walk there. Of course, she can't leave this place at all, but there's also not anyone trying to kill her every second of every day, so it evens out. Mostly.

In any case, she spends her days one of three places: the woods, the stables or the kitchen. The woods are an obvious choice, but there's not much to hunt in there. The stables are something new; it wasn't until she'd come here (and met Buckingham, but that's maybe a different story) that she'd become interested in horses and the entertainment they could provide. The kitchen is maybe a bit obvious, too, but every time she walks in there it smells more like home than she'd like to admit, and if Peeta-- no, if her family isn't here, then she can at least pretend.

Today, though, she's chosen the stables. They're quiet and unused, and Katniss likes feeding them carrots and sugar cubes (another thing she's not really thinking about) from the palm of her hand. They seem to enjoy it, too. Maybe later she'll go to the kitchen and get some stew for dinner, but right now she's content with the company of the animals.
]

II. Evening
[The kitchen turned out to be a little too much for her, today. Something about the smell of the stew as it cooked and how the room had transformed itself to look like the space in her house in the Victor's Village puts her on edge, makes her chest heavy and tight, so when the stew's done, she takes a bowl of it and climbs the stairs, heading for the roof.

It's still cold out, but she's no stranger to it, and thought to grab an extra jacket and pair of gloves. The stew's warm, too, so she's not really bothered as she sits in a chair someone left up here and stares out over the grounds, wondering again how she got here. She's long past thinking she's being punished by the Capitol, because that just wouldn't make sense, and isn't really their style, but she can't say she's not still confused. But again, she's probably not the only one. She knows that, but she's also always been selfish, hasn't she?
]

((ooc: hi! lemme know which section you're replying to in the subject! <3))
thestormcomes: (avertissement)
[personal profile] thestormcomes
[The Mansion has really outdone itself this year with the decor.

Boughs of holly, garlands strung over banisters and swags of pine in the halls. The kitchen smells like cinnamon and nutmeg, wreaths deck every door, and little sprigs of mistletoe hang from just about every public doorway (he strenuously avoids those, by the by). It actually feels like Yule -- there's even a massive log in the fireplaces, burning strong to keep the cold at bay.

Of course, all this probably means that something abso-fucking-lutely horrible is going to happen - because in his experience, that's how things go down around here - but Athos isn't tremendously opposed to enjoying things while he can.

In fact, you can find him peeling oranges in the kitchen with a small mountain of spices next to a pot full of dark, red liquid. Quietly singing something that modern audiences might think sounds suspiciously like The First Noël (albeit in French, sorry) under his breath, he throws a handful of cloves into his mysterious concoction and sets the stove to flame.

Spoiler alert: it's mulled wine. No one should be surprised.

He probably won't notice if anyone creeps up in his business. Probably.
]






NOTE -- Any mistletoe shenanigans that I planned with people might as well go in here, if people are amenable to that idea! :)

01 | video

Dec. 10th, 2013 09:30 pm
intelligently: (06)
[personal profile] intelligently
[ The video settles on a girl in a blue dress, long red hair pulled around the front of her, and a displeased expression on her face. Her name is Lydia Martin and she isn't happy. She is also rather confused but she's trying to mask that, and go for pissed off. It's 80% working, but it's 100% in her voice when she speaks ]

This isn't the birthday present that I hoped for.

[ Yes, she's also a little bit of a brat. Or is giving that impression too. Priorities, she has them. She was having a party and she'd like to get back to it ]

And if it's a joke then I'm certainly not laughing, and I won't. So Stiles- [ Yes, she did use your name ] if this is your idea of funny then it's not. My party was fine, and I'd like to get back to it.

[ And there's a pause, one in which Lydia is clearly expecting a response ]

Now. I am not sitting around in this dump waiting.

[ She is referring to the mansion, because for the size of it she's not so impressed right now, but that might just be the kidnapping talking ]
goodnightlisteners: (smooth sonorous voice)
[personal profile] goodnightlisteners
˙puɐlɹǝpuoM oʇ˙˙˙ǝɯoɔlǝM ˙ʍouʞ noʎ ʍou 'llǝM ¿uʍop-ǝpᴉsdn ǝʞods noʎ ɟᴉ uǝddɐɥ plnoʍ ʇɐɥʍ pǝɹǝpuoʍ ɹǝʌǝ noʎ ǝʌɐH

I'm sorry about your eyes )

video;

Nov. 24th, 2013 09:48 pm
littleduck: (breakdown)
[personal profile] littleduck
[Prim looks pretty frightful right now, her braided pigtails coming undone and her face smudged with blood and dirt. It's very obvious that she's spent a long while crying, her eyes are red and swollen. She's not crying right now, however, she's waited for a moment until she feels like she doesn't have any more tears left to give to make this public inquiry.

Her mouth is carrying a serious looking frown, but the desperation she feels is quite obvious in the look in her eyes as well as her tone of voice.
]

I'm looking for my sister. K- [She starts to say her name, but her lip forms a tight line as her voice trembles. She continues through it.]

Her name is Katniss Everdeen. She doesn't like talking to strangers, not unless she has to, so you might not know her name if she's here. She has dark hair that's braided, and she usually looks like this.

[And now Prim tries to imitate her sister's best lineface. Which is hard to do, but she manages. It's cut short, however, by Prim glancing behind her in a hurry as she hears things approaching. As she realizes that these things definitely aren't her friends, there's a gasp as she takes off running and cuts the feed.]
unsleeved: (hrm)
[personal profile] unsleeved
[For those who know him- and his story- it should come as no surprise that Daryl's face pops up on the network now, backlit with a hazy, mid-morning sky, bare branches, and a landscape that's probably unfamiliar to everyone but him. And he doesn't look happy: hair damp and clinging to skin already streaked with dirt, his expression probably says it all-

Welcome to my world.

But just in case it doesn't (and for those who haven't heard about this crap yet):]


It's the brain. Only way to put 'em down. Don't let 'em grab you, don't let 'em scratch you, don't let 'em bite you. Hell, don't let 'em anywhere near you if you can help it. [He scowls.] ...Easier said than done since we're crammed in here like a bunch of damn sardines- [never before has Wonderland made him feel more like an ant trapped under a magnifying glass........] -so I'm gonna say it again: Brain.

[If he seems more annoyed than anything else, it's because he is; this is business as usual for him, but just like back home there are people here he cares about, people who don't deserve this shit. That's his main concern. This won't last forever, but he'd like to keep the horrible deaths to a minimum if at all possible...]

Got some stuff out here, y'all can come find me if you need it-- [He pauses, and for a fleeting second considers making an apology... But the moment passes without one. Anyone wanting to ream him out for bringing this hell to Wonderland can do so when it's over- ain't no time for in-fighting unless someone don't got a pulse.] Out by the water, where the beach used to be. Don't got too many of 'em over here yet... [And of course as soon as the words leave his mouth, a figure shuffles into view of his camera, drawn, no doubt, by Daryl's deep and enduring love for the things.....

The feed ends there. DARYL SMASH.]




[[ooc: HIT HIM UP HERE VIA VIDEO OR ACTION IDK. He's at the quarry area now, but he'll go wherever he's needed. He has a stockpile of crap with him so if you wanna grab something from him there's that. Also walker-exterminating lessons, those are also a thing.

ALSO. This is a catchall, so if there's something you wanna do with him on a day other than the first day, just specify that and I'll roll with it! He'll be roaming so feel free to assume he's wherever you want/need him to be!]]
alltheways: (When you get to the Eighth Square)
[personal profile] alltheways
[The Red Queen appears on the network with her Vorpal Shield hanging on the wall behind her. She doesn't sit on a throne, of course--she's not as presumptuous as some Queens--instead she stands, straight and tall. The room she's standing is is completely nondescript, giving away no hints about her location.]

I'm happy to say that I have regained my shield, dear friends, and just in time. Danger is once again coming your way. A crash is imminent.

But there will be a safe haven set aside for you. I fear it may be difficult to find, and it won't be large, but it will be there nonetheless.

[She tents her fingers together, looking pensive.]

It is...the best that could be done.

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